Unplanned Holiday
by juliasejanus
Summary: Alex wondered why he had accepted Edward's offer of fostering. It was the easy way to put several thousand miles between himself and the Bank. The reality of family life, proved he was no one's ideal son. Attempts at control with threats and punishment, make Alex decide to visit a friend. WARNING SUICIDAL BEHAVIOUR
1. Chapter 1

At the Bus Station in San Francisco Alex flipped a quarter, heads to go north to Vancouver, tails to go south to Los Angeles. He had already ruled out Joe Canterbury, as he was in military school in Vermont and not living in Washington DC with his parents. So, it was heads to visit Tom McMorin. The young Canadian lived with his maternal grandmother, now estranged from his parents after his imprisonment at Point Blanc Academy. The ex-MI6 operative was running away. Fifteen and fed up with everything. Getting grounded for missing four appointments with the psychologist. The same shrink had thought him delusional and prescribing anti-psychotics when Alex had discussed the events in Cairo. A teenager who was 'under stress' and had created a fantasy world to explain the death of his former guardian in a freak car fire. He knew if he stayed he'd be institutionalised by talking of Ian, Blunt, Yassen, Grief, Sarov, Cray, the Triads, his godfather or any other creeps who had hurt and abused him.

While Liz and Edward were out at the theatre, Alex had cracked Edward's safe to collect his passport. He had emptied his own savings account before leaving London of all £450, leaving a balance of £3.72. Sabina was away staying with friends. The next door neighbour was supposedly baby-sitting but was fast asleep infront of the TV, which was playing at full volume. He had stayed in his room when the woman arrived and he hoped no one would notice he was missing until it was time for school on Monday morning. He had decided there was no point leaving a note, just to say 'life sucks, I suck, you suck, everything fucking sucks'.

The family had not adjusted to the arrival of a damaged and disturbed teenage boy at all well. Edward's offer of hospitality was meant to be long term, a proper family, but the reality had quickly shown that they had completed underestimated the task in hand. Alex's behaviour was not bad, he had stopped acting out; but he was silent, only attending meals to poke at his food and never acting like the boy that had invited to stay previously. This new Alex was the product of the hard life he had endured and the losses which had taught him not to get attached as it would all turn to shit. That prediction had come true as he had overheard the tense discussions between Liz and Edward and the more chilling phone calls to London, about his lack of cooperation and inclusion.

The reality was he was counting the days until he was eighteen; when he planned to blow every penny Ian had left him on getting drunk and/or high and making sure no agency wanted to be a hundred miles of such a loser ever again. He had gotten great tips from Cassian. That guy knew recreational and prescription drugs inside out. Tom was already a teen with a drink problem, so Alex would have a master class in partying hard before he returned to London in two and a half years time. Not that he thought he would be spending all that time with Tom McMorin. After his birthday, he'd find work and get a apartment either north of the border in Canada or in the good old US of A. He had a full US residency card courtesy of his work saving the world.

It was late on Saturday when Alex arrived in Seattle. He had no plans for getting a room or finding a hostel as the first bus the next day for Vancouver was at 7. He bought his ticket and went in search of food after over twenty three hours travelling already. It was a truly horrible night spent moving often, he was jumpy and a couple of nosy adults had asked him if he was OK and where his family was. His brutal answer of all dead had shocked them and allowed him to make a move. Unwanted, unloved and probably unlovable, except by a couple of nutcase Russians, both now dead. By Eleven, he'd be in Canada. Buy a map, or find the bus to Noons Creek Drive, Port Moody, where Tom now resided.

At nearly eleven, the bus slowed as it entered Canada, stuck in a queue of traffic. Alex had thought it was just a quick flash of his passport and that would be it. Everyone was required to exit the bus. Security had tightened in the past year.

Alex was careful to stand in line with a family of a boy slightly younger than himself, to appear as if they were travelling together. The line shuffled forward, the Border Guard looked at the teenager. "Your parental consent letter, please."

"Errr… I'm just visiting a friend for a week or so," Alex winced as it sounded a bit lame.

Alarm bells were being triggered, fifteen alone and strangely calm and uninterested . "A requirement of all minors travelling unaccompanied is a written letter of consent from your parents or guardians."

"So, I get to go back to Seattle without it. Fine. I'll go back and stay with Cass." Alex was not phased by stupid bureaucracy. "So, I wait for a bus here or what?"

This kid was a sly one, no mention of home, parents or siblings, just staying with friends. They did not get runaways often. "Its not that simple. First you get follow my colleague Jen here and answer some questions, then you can go home."

Alex had noted the exits, the four guards and the fact this was a situation he could not run from. "OK, but I need the bathroom."

Home was not San Francisco, not London, not anywhere. He doubted his foster parents would want him back after this stunt. Edward's last admonishment had stated he was burning his bridges with his difficult attitude. Alex thought it was normal not to talk to adults, to stay in your room and act like everyone was your enemy. The problem was that he had no interest in anything apart from hiding away, as night past day. These people would call Edward, then it would be a trip back to London and be back in the custody of the Royal and General Bank. He went straight into the stall of the men's room. Plan A and Plan B had failed. So, with no other choice it was Plan C.

…

Jen Lancey waited fifteen minutes, even the most monumental bowel movement did not take this long. Was the kid carrying contraband? Probably trying to flush the evidence away as she waited outside. She went in to see the cubicle shut but no desperate flushing taking place. She knocked on the door, "You OK in there kid?" Only then to notice the trickle of blood on the floor. She picked up her radio "Code Red Medical Emergency Arrivals Mens Restroom… Repeat Code Red…"

Alex groaned, he was still conscious. He had slashed his left wrist twice, which was gushing blood all over his jeans and the floor, but failed on his attempt to hold the knife to do his right hand side, then dropped the blade before attempting the crucial slice across his carotid artery. He had made a right mess of his exit plan. He was a bit woozy, but attempted to get on the floor to finish the job in hand before they prized the door open. Suddenly he was slumped by the toilet, feeling sick and light headed. The smell and sight of the blood, his blood made him retch.

He could hear Jen talking to someone else. He was out of time. As the burley security guard pulled him out of the cubicle all Alex could think to do was beg, with a pathetic 'Please don't send me back… Please, nobody wants me. I can't go back. Don't send me back.' He kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Where's your passport kid?"

"Where do you think? I flushed it down the toilet. Not going back. Nothing there for me anyway."

The man was roughly administering first aid. "Well, kid; Paramedics are on there way. What can I say except welcome to Canada. We don't get many this desperate to stay."


	2. Chapter 2

As the paramedics dealt with the teenager, Jen retrieved the torn pages of a British Passport from the trap in the toilet. The other guy, Mike, went through the teens bag. A couple of changes of clothes, some photos, a phone, an iPod and a wad of cash, half in American currency, half in British. The phone and iPod were secured by passwords. In the kids wallet was a US Residency Card and enough cash for necessities. Travelling light, the Residency Card meant they would be able to get the kid's home details from the US Department of Immigration.

The boy remained silent as his injures were assessed and his vital signs monitored. Blood Pressure low, running a slight fever and the paramedic was not happy about the kid's exhaustion. The patient was prodded awake twice by the concerned paramedics. Alex really wanted to close his eyes and wake up to find this was just another horrific nightmare. Still prone on the floor of the men's room in clear view of a large puddle of his own blood congealing on the floor of the toilet cubicle. "Alex, stay with us, Ok. We are going to take you to Vancouver General Hospital Emergency Department."

Jen was travelling with him. As the ambulance sped north on the Vancouver-Blaine Highway, she spoke of what was arranged "I will hand you over to a Representative from the Ministry of Children and Family Development at the Hospital. As an at risk teenager, you have emergency temporary residency. A Temporary Custody Hearing in the Family Court will take place next week and that will address your status in Canada and when or if you will be returning to your foster parents in California. Yes, we have their details, but the Social Worker will talk to Mr and Mrs Pleasure."

The arrival at the Emergency Department saw Alex wheeled straight into a cubicle to an awaiting team of three nurses and two doctors. He only half listened as the trauma doctor discussed the case with the paramedic before handover. At least the annoying Border Guard was not there. He noted the words self inflicted wounds, major blood loss, loss of consciousness on two occasions, dehydration, low blood pressure and lethargy. The Primary survey then started, as the blood stained jeans, sweatshirt and shirt were cut off to leave Alex in his boxers. His boots and socks had been removed at the Border Crossing. A line was put in for saline, blood samples taken and then the doctors started asking questions.

"Hi Alex. I'm Chris, a trauma doctor at Vancouver General. I'm going to ask you Some background questions"

Alex answered the same questions the paramedics had asked, did he take any regular medication, did he drink alcohol regularly and in particular in the last 24 hours or taken any recreational drugs. As he had stopped taking all the pills prescribed by the idiot psychologist he could answer all with a negative.

"So, you have some quite impressive scarring, serious burns and open heart surgery, were both quite recent?"

"In the past year, yeah, but separate incidents." The teenager left out the reasons for the injuries were classified under the Official Secrets Act. "Medical details, last October my carotid artery above my heart was damaged and repaired. In February, I broke my ankle and was badly burnt. Both times I was treated at St. Dominic's Hospital in London."

The doctor then progressed to Alex's current situation. "What happened this morning?"

Alex sighed and closed his eyes. "Plan C, after I was refused entry at the border, 'cause I had no parental consent letter."

"Plan C?" The doctor enquired, it sounded like the fifteen year old had thought this out and was more serious than the cry for help the paramedics assumed the kid had resorted to rather than go home.

"Plan A - my current foster placement, not working and so I arranged for Plan B, to go stay with my friend Tom, who lives at Port Moody. We met at school in France last year, that school sucked and blowed big time. Plan C came into affect when Plan B crashed and burned;" Alex took a deep breath. "but, I fucked that up. Dropped the knife before slitting my throat. I can guess your next question, given the opportunity would I still carry out Plan C. Too right I would. I'm eying up the tray of your nice super sharp scalpels in that tray over there. Turn your back and I'll paint the floor, ceiling and walls with my blood." Alex opened his eyes and looked at the doctor, no lies were being told. Would the man believe him.

"Thank you for being so honest. Seeing as you are still a danger to yourself, I'm going to restrain you with Wrist and feet restraints attached to the gurney. Do you understand that this is for your safety?"

"And to save on huge clean up cost. Yeah, sure, go ahead, tie me down. Its not like its a novel experience for me. In fact getting tied up is getting to be very boring."

With the nurse securing him , the doctor then asked, "When was your last check up with a heart specialist?"

"Errr, never." Alex frowned, there was no problem with his heart, was there?.

"And are you seeing a psychiatrist or psychologist in San Francisco?"

"Meant to be, the guy is a joke. Thinks I'm delusional and making up fairy stories over how Jack died in Cairo."

"Who is Jack?"

Alex could imagine just how she would have reacted to this stunt, then if she had been alive he would not have done that to her, "Jack Starbright, she looked after me before the Pleasures. My uncle employed her to look after me because he was too busy to be bothered. So, it was basically Jack and me from just after my seventh birthday until the beginning of July when she died. She's fought to keep looking after me after Ian died in March last year. I liked school in Cairo, it was better than London anyway. Not that school in California was much better. Sabina stopped talking to me because I was affecting her popularity by being Mr. Depressed."

"I think I'll stop with the Q&A and wait for the Ministry Representative and/or the on call psychiatrist to turn up."

The next person to visit, was a harassed sounding woman. Alex suddenly alert when he heard his name mentioned. Her first words to the doctor's were no nonsense orders. " Alexander John Rider is officially under the temporary custody of the Province of British Columbia. Anyone wanting to interview him, including the Psychiatrist, I have to be informed, preferably only when I am present. I have just had two jokers from Ottawa and one from Washington DC claiming that a fifteen year old child is a National Security Asset and classed as Top Secret and Need to Know only."

The tall, thin woman, who entered Alex's cubicle, had aristocratic features and grey hair up in a chinon, was wearing a classic pant suit, court shoes and still sporting sunglasses. She then looked at the thin, gaunt and very pale boy restrained on the gurney. "Good Afternoon, Alexander. I am Melissa Durant, Representative of the Ministry of Children and Family Development and your acting temporary guardian. The Law in British Columbia classifies all under eighteens as 'children'. Do you have any questions?"

To this Alex shook his head. He really just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I will be sorting out your placement details, but it looks like you'll be in hospital for a couple of days, the Standard Period for Psychiatric Assessment as stated in the 1999 Mental Health Act. I will be here until you're placed on ward. If you have any questions, I'm sure one of the medical staff will find me."

She then stepped out of the cubicle, with only the thin curtain separating the patient from the busy Emergency Department. Alex could hear as her discussion with the doctor continued.

"Has he been violent?" asked Melissa.

"No. He was restrained with his cooperation. In our assessment, Alex clearly stated his desire to end his life. His injuries were not a cry for help. He has stated that he would use another sharp implement to finish the job of slitting his throat."

"Right, so psychiatric assessment is our top priority. Any other medical concerns?"

"Underweight, exhausted, severely anaemic, we are waiting on the lab results for his blood match to begin a transfusion and his wounds still need stitching. You got here very fast, Melissa."

"I swear the phone was ringing non-stop in the office within minutes of the phone call from the Douglas Border Crossing."

Alex suddenly felt very anxious, his breathing increased into sharp stabbing breaths, his heart rate to soared. He was trapped and the CIA and their Canadian equivalent knew he had tried to kill himself.

The doctor immediately entered again with two nurses. "Deep breaths, Alex. Try to calm down." His soothing words not helping as the teenager's pulse was now over 150 beats a minute and he was gasping for breath in his panic. An oxygen mask was put on his face, but Alex started to struggle.

The doctor was barking orders for tranquillisers. The drugs administered via the stint on Alex's arm, meant he began feeling woozy almost straight away. He then could not help himself as for the second time that day he vomited, the nurse only getting the breathing mask off just in time.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom's grandmother answered the phone at 3, thinking it was his friend asking for directions to her house from the main road. The sixty year old artist was happy that Tom would have someone to talk to, who understood and was also coping with the aftermath of the trauma of surviving that school. The past year had been hard on Tom. His mother and father's separation two years ago had driven the quiet boy to go wild, stealing cars for joyriding and underage drinking; acting out for attention and the fact his parent's were ignoring him. Evie Blantyre would have taken him in and straightened him out then; not afraid of tough love and commitment, but her daughter had gone for the easy option. Evie had thought she had taught Grace Blantyre-McMorin that if it sounded too good to be true, you could bet it was. Sending her only child to that school in Grenoble, where Tom had been imprisoned, beaten and traumatised at that supposed Academy producing fine upstanding members of the community in a matter of weeks. Tom had been acting out only because both his parents did not have time for him. In the past eighteen months, she had taken sole custody and only twice had to get into her car after he failed to come home from school; both times embarrassing her grandson and reassuring him that with her he was a number one priority, not an afterthought.

She was looking forward to meeting Alex Rider, equally amused and amazed by the stories told about his escape from Point Blanc to alert the authorities of the shenanigans going on with those clones. Tom,never an athletic child, had taken up snowboarding last winter and was now hooked, all his spare time spent earning money to spend on boarding.

"Hi, Ms Blantyre?" The woman on the phone asked.

"Yes?"

"My name is Melissa Durant, I am a Representative of the Ministry of Children and Family Development acting on behalf of Alexander John Rider. I'm just letting you know, Alex will not be coming to stay tiday. He attempted to cross the border without parental consent this morning and was refused entry. However, there was an incident at Douglas Border Crossing. He is currently at Vancouver General Hospital recovering from some serious self inflicted injuries. He will be under observation in the Psychiatric Unit for a couple of days if you or Tom want to visit."

Evie closed the conversation with a bland "Thanks for letting me know.". The old woman would have to talk to Tom, wondering if her grandson was aware his friend had runaway and was that ill.

Bus after bus had arrived, but no Alex. Tom's phone rang at five past three, Evie telling him to come home, she had news. He stepped off his bike, and pushed his pike through the open garage door. His grandmother sat in the car on the drive waiting for him. "Hurry up, trouble. We need to get to Vancouver ASAP."

Tom groaned, he had thought mommy dearest was in Toronto this weekend so he had been spared his weekly torture session of ignoring his bitch of a mother, as Evie tried to mend the broken bond between mother and son. As the old woman stating often to her grandson, Grace made a monumental mistake, well a series of them considering she'd married Colm McMorin in the first place, but Tom did not have to like or forgive her for her failures, but try to move on from them not for her sake, but for his. Feelings needed to be addressed, the underlying resentment talked through and not left to fester.

The impatient woman had started the car. "Come on, we're going to see your friend Alex. He's not very well and needs his friends. You can text everyone on the way to the hospital."

Evie understood mental illness better than most, her elder brother on returning from Vietnam had been a changed man. After witnessing horrors, he withdrew into himself drinking himself into an early grave, refusing help or any attempts at interventions. Evie, herself, had settled in Vancouver in 1960, far from her republican parents and stuffy upbringing. Forced to leave home at eighteen, pregnant and alone. Her daughter born a Canadian, far from her baby's father. A monumental mistake on her part, believing in true love conquerers all, he was a married man, whom Evie had loved as the other woman in his life, sharing him. Grace was his only child, one he had never met.

After telling Tom the few details she knew, he was silent; busy texting his friends, three in the US, one in Holland, one in Germany and one in France. He had the hard task of telling them that their hero and rescuer had tried to kill himself. The boys all knew Alex was very depressed after Jack's murder. The Point Blanc survivors would now be pestering their parents or guardians to get their fingers out and help the fifteen year old who had saved all their bacon. Last of all Tom put a call in to his mother and left a message for her to contact him this evening and it was urgent but not super critical. It was the first time he had initiated contact since early 2001.

…

At the Emergency Department, Evie Blantyre enquired on the whereabouts of Alexander Rider. It turned out he was still in a cubicle and waiting his transfer to the ward, which was expected within minutes. The trauma specialist attending Alex introduced himself as they were shown through into the assessment area.

"Hi. I'm Chris Allen. Alex is comfortable at the moment, out of immediate danger, but he is restrained and has been sedated, so he's a bit groggy. He is going up onto the general ward in the next few minutes for the night for observation and our Psychiatric team will assess him tomorrow. You can go up with him and stay until 8."

In the cubicle was sat a prim woman, who looked a bit hassled, studying her laptop intently.

The artist then read the woman's ID lanyard, this was the Social Worker that had called this afternoon. "Ms. Durant. Thank you so much for calling me and letting me know about Alex. You stated he's under the Ministry's temporary guardianship, as a teenager at risk. I would like to formally put in for fostering, if its needed. I have fostered several teenagers over the years, I normally deal with your colleagues Geoff Golightly and Suzanne Brant. I'm currently acting as primary care-giver for my grandson, Alex's friend. They both went to school together in France last year and have been close ever since."

The woman smiled as she put her computer away. She already knew that Evie Blantyre was a naturalised Canadian Citizen, a former town representative and keen environmentalist. A woman with lots of friends across British Columbia as well as the mother of the chief executive and chairwoman of Canadian Media and Cable Incorporated. "Thank you for offering. Alex's case is already stirring up a hornet's next of controversy. Would you be able to attend an emergency court hearing first thing tomorrow. The psychiatrist is seeing Alex at 8 and has promised his assessment by 9. I think it would be in Alex's interests to stay with you and your grandson." The woman could foresee a turnaround in the teenager's outlook if 'Plan B' came into affect, which was staying with his friend. Ms. Durant would like nothing better than to pull the rug out from the officials in London, Washington DC and Ottawa calling for Alex's detention in a high security facility without even seeing the teen nor awaiting any official assessment from the hospital and its physicians.

Alex woke and smiled weakly at Tom. In truth, he had not expected any visitors, certainly not the Canadian teenager he had planned to visit and then move on from. Alex's perceived future was of living his life alone, without friends who could be used to blackmail you or to destroy you. He had made a black and white decision this morning. Now, here he was with his classmate from Point Blanc, a fifteen year old he only knew from a few hours in France and from a handful of emails and even fewer phone calls. The ex-spy was at a loss at how to deal with this situation. The failure of Plan C, had not meant to have been a second chance. Finding that his sort-of friend still willing to interact with him, was confusing. "Hi" he rasped.

Tom poured a beaker of water and helped Alex sit up. "Good evening. You've been snoring. I hope thats just an affect of the drugs, because we're sharing a room at Gran's house. I should warn you, I also snore. Drove Cassian up the wall when we were at Point Blanc sharing a cell." He helped the constrained patient drink small sips, having noted that the nurse said to be careful as Alex had vomited several times today. "Gran's here as well, but outside conspiring with that creepy woman."

Alex lay back already exhausted from just sitting forward. "Ms. Durant?"

"Yeah, lady who looks like a MILF but acts like an ice queen. She's got quite a game plan already, completely pissed off with some guys in Ottawa and Washington who seem to think you need locking up ASAP. Gran is working on getting temporary guardianship and by tomorrow will have called half the her friends in BC to secure it. She knows three judges and half the people in the Ministry personally from her Environmental work." Tom then noted Alex's confused expression. "Ms. Evie Blantyre likes nothing better than hopeless causes, you Mr. Rider are her new project. She also thinks I could do with a friend who can relate to all the shit I'm still carrying. I told her and Ms. Ministry of Family and Children's Affairs about Cairo and Jack. If MI6 send a toady to drag you back to London, they have to deal with those two women first and good on them. My gran has never backed down from anything and loves ultimatums. Hell, she was a single mother in the early 1960's when it was a complete taboo, political active for a thousand different local environmental and social causes and founder of the Nelson Arts Commune. Officially, she's retired from all that crap, but well last few years all her energy has been in fighting for me and telling Mom that being a mother takes more than hiring appropriate staff and being there at Christmas." Tom held onto Alex's hand, careful of the bandages and the padded restraints. "So, I might not be spy material, but mommy dearest is just like your uncle, never around and never giving a shit. My housekeepers were never as cool as Jack, but mom never saw eye to eye with Gran. I only really got to know Evie after Point Blanc and what can I say, she's weird but families are. Welcome to the family Alex. I and all the other guys are fighting for you. You've done your bit, sit back, get your head together and catch your breath. Time to chill and Vancouver is the place to do that."


	4. Chapter 4

The house in Port Moody was ramshackle, the exterior in need of a coat of paint and the interior was a mess of furniture of all different styles, books and magazines in piles and over spilling all the available shelves. The wooden floors had hand woven rag rugs, the walls were all neutral tones but covered with photos and art. Alex was wearing Tom's spare coat, cold and shivery, still not 100% by the after effects of his major blood loss. Here promised to be a not so temporary home. Evie had assured her grandson's friend if it took adoption for Alex to feel safe and secure, then in four months he'd officially be Alexander Blantyre, she had always wanted more children and had fostered several over the years since Grace had left home. Tom was already calling the ex-spy Uncle Al. Alex wondered on the fact that Evie took everything in her stride and his prolonged silences were not uneasy or strained, viewed as defiance as they had been on San Francisco, the woman seemed to be cope with silence, understanding the need for space. Alex was now sharing a room with Tom. In the spring, the basement would be cleared out to give both boys their own rooms. Then Evie could get her guest room back.

As the small rucksack was unpacked Tom asked "what are you worried about? I'll be here as there is no way in hell I'd ever move back in with mom and Dad is 2000 miles away with wife No 2 and his picture perfect new family. You, Evie and me are a new family unit: crazy old hippy woman and two troublemakers. Next week you are back at school, another milestone, you will have to take placement tests. I did. No worries though I'm a bright but average student who should try harder. I bet you get on all the sports teams. Hell, the hockey team need new blood as we got slaughtered in the school league last year. You play hockey, don't you?"

It had been a while since ice hockey had been one of Alex's hobbies. When he was 10/11 he had played for a junior team in Berlin. Alex had missed it when he initially moved to London but had soon got fully into football. "I can skate pretty well and have played as a defender."

"Right, so in Alex-speak I guess pretty well is better than average. Didn't you describe your snowboarding skills as "OKish". You rock on a board, man. That lesson you gave us guys last year kick started my own love of snow. I board regularly now. You can join me at the weekend. You can borrow my spare board and clothes. Lucky we're similar sizes. Try my boots on now."

Alex sat down on the bed and then flopped backwards. "Later Big Guy, I'm shattered."

"I'll leave you to sleep. If you need me I'll be in the den catching up on my gazillion overdue assignments."

Alex did not sleep but used the solitude to recount the way his life had done a complete U-turn since Sunday. Today was only Wednesday. Four days at Vancouver General with the hospital bill already paid by Dieter Sprintz. There had been a initial custody hearing at 9:30 on Monday, one the Pleasures had not attended. He had not asked about them either. They were now only communicating through his government appointed representative. He still had to process the fact he had tried to kill himself. It smarted that he had failed so spectacularly. Dropping the knife for Christ's sake. Next time, if there was a next time, just slit your throat do not start with your wrists. He had moved on from that pit of despair, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't still thinking about killing himself, he would if MI6 or the CIA turned up and started their games again. Plan C was definitely still on the to do list. His shrink will love that. His new Canadian psychologist, Daniel, who seemed to be very keyed in, proving that the spooks in Ottawa were more open with the information that MI6 had manipulated a teenager to work as an operative. With that happy thought, the teenage ex-spy was lulled to sleep by the traffic noise

….

In the lull of the afternoon, Evie escaped into her studio. A cast concrete structure with flat roof built in the back garden. Inside were half finished canvases and several large sculptures, all in need of recycling. She pulled out the nearest large canvas and started to cover-over the unfinished project with white. She was in the mood to paint, a family portrait. She had sketched and painted Grace over a hundred times. Now she was going to start a series recording her two boys, who in the blink of her eye would be grown and living their own lives. She had already decided to get Alex back from his dark and lonely self imposed exile to connect with his friends. Cassian was visiting at the weekend with his mother and she had already invited Dieter and James Sprintz for Christmas. Her house would be alive with a riot of boys, just what Alex needed.

She would bring both boys over tonight to start a sketch or two and to take a series of record photographs. Digital cameras and computers were the wonder and fabulous tool for artists. Rather than emerge herself in video or performance art, Evie Blantyre was sticking to what she knew. She would try and get all the boys from Point Blanc to sit for her. The dull work of preparing her canvas was just the soothing work she needed. She finished and cleaned off the large six inch brush in the double sink. She loved this ugly building with north light roof. It had originally been a garage for a car enthusiast. Now heated by a solar panels and underfloor heating and a wood burning stove in the corner. Finally she would create again.

…..

"Wakey, wakey, Alex! Dinner time. Oh, by the way, I kind of forgot to tell you; Gran's a vegan. No meat allowed in the house. We can eat whatever we like outside but its tofu and soya bean heaven here. Its her version of non-meat pie tonight, potato and aduki bean. Its not too shabby. Homemade ice pops for desert, last one down does the clearing up." With that Tom was out of the door and down the stairs before Alex had even sat up.

…..

After three days of non-stop meetings and interviews from breakfast to midnight, Grace Blantyre-McMorin was finally catching up on her correspondence before flying back to Vancouver. Five messages from Tom, three from her mother and one hundred and fifteen other urgent emails and phone messages. She opened the latest message from Tom.

'Dear Mom… Yet again, I need to talk and you never answer. Just forget it, you and me are over. Fuck Grans attempts at conciliation. My weekends are now my own. Have a good life, Grace. I may be your biggest mistake, but you can just forget about me now. Your only child, Tom.'

The chief executive of a multinational media empire had always put work first. She had a sinking feeling that it would take a lot of work and deep commitment to reconnect with Tom. She then read the earlier messages to try and find out what she had missed that was so important.

…..

Liz Pleasure had been in a foul mood since Monday. That Canadian Judge had assessed her and Edward's parenting skills as poor. The anger masked her underlying sense of failure that they had misread Alex's problems completely; not surprising as the boy hardly spoke except yes or no to direct questions. He'd run away, attempted suicide and caused a major incident on the Canadian border. She sat in her bedroom with her very old fashioned stationery set and began to write to Ms. Durant to explain the fact they were in a no win situation because of Mrs. Jones. This woman was spilling details, the Official Secret's Act be damned. Alex had not been right since their holiday in Cornwall last year.


	5. Chapter 5

Sabina whined in her 'I want something and I want it now' tone "Daaaddd…. When is Alex coming home?" Last night she had been fobbed off that Alex was staying with his friend, the Canadian Tom. She knew Alex and his bestie Chelsea Tom were not talking. She had also noticed Alex's bedroom was completely cleared out. Not one thing of Alex's was still in the house.

Edward stopped eating his muesli. He had been expecting this question since Sabina had returned from her school trip yesterday. His daughter had obviously planned the confrontation, since she was awake and dressed at 8 on a Saturday morning. "Alex left last Friday, ran away. He's not coming back. He wasn't coping here. In fact, he's not doing well at all."

"So he's going back to London then?"

"No, he's staying with Tom McMorin, Tom's grandmother is fostering him now. She has already filed paperwork to adopt Alex. Mum talked to Evie yesterday, it sounds like Alex has settled in there and is accepting help after his little hiccup on Sunday." Edward pulled off his glasses and used his shirt to clean the glasses, needing a pause to try and break the news their foster son, ex-foster son had tried to kill himself. Had planned to cut his throat rather than return to San Francisco. Alex had preferred the finality of death to living with them. In nine weeks, they had gone from close friends to only talking via intermediaries. "There was a problem with Alex crossing into Canada on Sunday, he had left here without permission and was refused entry at the border as a runaway. Alex then slashed his wrists in the mens room. He was taken to Vancouver Hospital and granted emergency residency. He was in a psychiatric unit for four days. The Canadians took a dim view to Mrs. Jones trying to reclaim custody. We were cut out of the loop, as we never had official guardianship and well, its all in the past now."

Sabina processed her father's grim statement. She did not need to track down any information. She already had the all the awful details of Alex's breakdown. Tom had emailed her on Monday to call her a complete bitch. The hard part was that she had been. Silent, blank and emotionless Alex had not clicked with her friends here. They all thought he was a weirdo and complete froot loop. Lacey and Dee had teased him. Only it wasn't good hearted teasing, it had been cruel and vicious bullying, actions she had condoned by her silence. "Thanks for eventually telling me dad. I've only been waiting since Monday for you to ring me about it. Tom had the decency to emailed me on Monday. Mum rang to say she could tell me when I got home, but told me that Alex had left. Where is she by the way?"

"In Vancouver, she went to see for herself that Alex is getting better and settling in to his new home. Look, Mum is not happy about any of this. She knows that we failed Alex. She has been working so hard all summer, she never gave Alex and his problems her full attention. I'm to blame for trying to shake Alex out of his funk. I grounded him for being difficult. I took the fact he was avoiding his appointments with the psychologist as I thought he was just being lazy, not that there had been a complete breakdown in trust. I didn't let Alex explain. Mum knows your friends were nasty to Alex as well. All the incidents at school have been discussed this week. We both want to hear your side of the story. Mum will be back around 8 tonight. I think you can expect Liz not to take your side. I'm also in the dog house. We can only learn from this and move on. Hopefully we can try and mend our friendship with Alex, thats if you want to."

Sabina was sat with perfect posture, staring at her dad. She shrugged her shoulders, "I'll think about it. The sad thing is Alex was being distant to protect himself and us. Those bastards in London ruined his friendship with Tom Harris, by accident rather than design I seem to have cut Alex out of my life rather effectively." Mum would give sage advice. She was thinking that she would only try to patch things up if that Mrs. Jones was truly out of the picture.

…

Cassian's mother, Leandra James was in the garden of Evie's home in Vancouver, busy on the phone. The woman had two phones, her personal phone and her business one. After her mistakes last year, her personal one was always answered first. She was also no longer CEO of a major studio, but back running her own, independent production company. Started with three young and very hard working film makers. Small budget, fresh and quirky projects and most of her workload handled by her very able assistant. Her son came first. He had arrived back from France clean and sober, but a completely paranoid mess. She had handed in her notice at work straight away and gone on emergency leave. Both of them had attended a two month long intensive therapy at a small clinic in Montana. Well away from LA and any chance of either of them going back into to their damaging old ways of ignoring their problems. She had rearranged her whole life as her son was more important than power, money or any job.

Parenting had been a hard and steep learning curve; which was still no walk in the park but having her beautiful, wild and opinionated son give his thoughts and feelings to her straight and for him to get the full brunt of her views in return was a million times better than what had almost taken place. Now, she was here to accompany her son on a visit with Alex Rider, a boy who had gone in undercover to that school and exposed the evil schemes of its headmaster. Casein had laid down the law, anything with her power and pocket was to be made available for Alex, for their saviour. It seemed that another student had also persuaded his father to do the same. Evie Blantyre had stated all medical expenses were being met by Dieter Sprintz. She had promised to meet cost of after school activities and holidays. Cassian was planning on spending his free time in Canada. She was currently on the phone regarding real estate in West Vancouver, near the ski resorts.

….

Liz had expected to get a real chewing over by Evie Blantyre. The woman was kind, pleasant and understanding. Looking after teenagers was hard. Liz had expected to be caring for a strong, independent young adult; mature and easy like her daughter Sabina. Alex had not been a bother, except he had been in denial and avoiding causing problems and admitting he was not coping. Frightened to be family, to care because all had been destroyed by MI6. He had for over a year, failed to deal with his life, acting out with extreme behaviour, forced into silence to protect Jack; damaging their relationship in the process. Alex had carried on in the only way he knew how. Now hew had been forced to deal with everything by his own breakdown. Evie would keep Liz and Edward in the loop. The wily activist aided by the local authorities in British Columbia, all adamant to put the fifteen year old boys health and well being first. Forget London, Washington or Ottawa trying to impose their ideals on national security. They should have thought about that before using a child in operations.

As another pot of chamomile tea was brewing, Lea came in from her phone call. "I think I'll need a few lessons, I have not skied since college. I absolutely refuse to start skateboarding. I should have a holiday place sorted by Christmas. I'll send the details to the other guys, might as well use it as a base for all of us when visiting. So, Liz I read your husband's book on Damian; to think I thought I knew the man and he was as bad as Hugo Grief."

…..

Alex had not done much skateboarding this afternoon, letting their guest have more use of Tom's spare board. It was easier to watch Tom and Cass practice runs and tricks. The blond was currently laying on the grass, just chilling with Cassian at the moment. Their friend had gone to get drinks and snacks, from the 7eleven two streets over on the other side of the rail tracks. It was strange to be allowed freedom and to be trusted not to fuck up. Evie stated the boys needed fresh air and to be back for five, as they were all going out for dinner.

The sky was a brilliant blue with large pale fluffy clouds that promised it would be raining tomorrow. Alex was not even worried about school on Monday. Evie had already removed his stitches from the deep lacerations on his left wrist. The smaller wound on his right wrist had only needed dressing. He was still tired and would be on iron supplements for at least six months, longer if he stuck to the vegan diet. Evie was a good cook and she was patient enough to show Alex how to cook. Beans, pulses, cereals, veg, seeds, fruit and nuts, even some stuff called 'quinoa'. So far he and Tom had only had a sneaky feast of hamburgers once, but Tom was likely to return with some form of contraband. Alex missed cheese and a milk the most. Last night he had dreamt of gorging himself on stilton, better than the normal nightmares. Maybe that was the plan with him and Tom, get them craving normal things, then you wouldn't be tempted by the big bad drink and drugs or in his case hacking himself to bits.


	6. Chapter 6

Evie read through her emails with a sigh. She had already planned out her Sunday, she was taking the boys hiking. The picnic was already made. Now her daughter was coming over. The sprightly sixty year old wrote a quick reply 'meet you at the Car Park on Silver Valley Road at 10:30 and come hiking with us. Otherwise will be home at round 4, love mom.'

There was no way Grace would waste six hours on recreation with her mother or her son.

She then called upstairs "Get up! breakfast is ready."

Alex emerged first, washed and dressed. He sat and helped himself to toast, granola muffins and a large glass of juice. All week he had cleared his plate, her grandson had reported that Alex was not bulimic. It was one less thing to worry about for the moment, her new son may be just acting the compliant good boy, only for his problems to resurface once he was settled. The diet plan depended on plenty of snacks and extra food, as Tom still ate pizza, burgers and milkshakes to supplement her vegan diet.

The boys could gorge on pizza tonight, she would drop them off at Sergio's for a hockey night special. She was giving Alex freedom to explore his boundaries, to get to know Tom well, give their budding friendship space to grow and make this town home. Tom had grown up in a house on Point Grey Road and formerly gone to St. John's School, living the millionaire lifestyle with nanny, housekeeper, gardeners and parents who worked fourteen hour days. Three years ago Evie had been living in her studio in Nelson, 600km east of Vancouver, where Grace had grown up and left to go to college and never come back. She had moved to Port Nelson after Colm had moved out, trying to be there for her daughter and grandson. Grace had coped with being dumped by working even harder and pushing everyone away.

...,

In the cool misty morning, Alex put on his nearly new boots and coat. Both bought yesterday morning from the junk shop for 25 bucks. Preowned but obviously never worn, unwanted in last seasons colours. The coat was even a decent make and would do for a couple of winters.

The trunk of Evie's ten year old SUV was full of a variety of snowboarding stuff, a large first aid kit, a shovel, blankets, the picnic, several sketch pads and her camera bag.

Tom picked up the rucksack containing the all important food. He turned to face the trail and swore, seeing the white, spotlessly clean Range Rover Vogue parked up and a glamourous forty something walking over. "Fuck! Mom's here!"

"Red trail, meet you both for lunch at the Gorge Picnic Area. I'll deal with Grace."

"Morning Tommy. Are you going to introduce your friend." The dark haired tall woman asked.

Alex watched on as Tom grunted and walked away. He had the choice of being polite or being a friend; so he waved at the new arrival and ran after the other teenagers, he had only heard bad things about Mrs. McMorin.

Evie smiled and apologised "you'll have to forgive Alex, he's still a bit clingy with Tom."

"Why are you adopting the boy? I would think you had your hands full with Tommy. You've said you were too old foster when you moved to Port Moody. So, what's so special about this Alex?"

"Alex Rider is the boy who broke out of the school in France and alerted the authorities to the shenanigans going on there. You and your son are alive today because of his selfless bravery. He'a an orphan and needs a home. One I'm more than happy to provide. So what brought you out to wander the wilderness this morning in a pair of boot that cost more than my car?"

Alex ran to catch Tom up, the tall Canadian boy was blazing a trail to get away from his mother. The two boys then marched on at a good clip, coats zipped and hoods up to keep out the dank drizzle. The path forked and Tom without hesitation went left. "There's two routes to the picnic ground, easy and moderately taxing. This trail climbs, sometimes you get good view, but not today. Might see some wildlife though."

For an hour they walked in silence before Tom stopped under an overhanging tree for some shelter. The rain had stopped and the low cloud appeared to be lifting. He took a long drink from his canteen.

Alex then did the same, the had not passed any other hikers this morning. He then smiled and asked "Fancy a smoke? Cassian gave me some much needed supplies. He made some of the right type of friends at the Skate Park yesterday. There was the full choice of personal poisons. He said I should start off on weed and work up to the good stuff. So, my good man, ciggie or spliff?"

"I need a drag for pure relaxation, that bitch turning up has ruined the good mood I was in this morning. Show us your stash then Rider."

Alex pulled out the tobacco tin containing his dope, an orange disposable lighter and a packet of Marlboro cigarettes. Better to get 'caught' smoking cigarettes than anything illegal. "Cass said this is decent weed. Most of the stuff those guys were selling was junk made from garden herbs for the ignorant and unwary. Our Californian friend gave me a master class on how to get what you want for a price you are willing to pay. Never give the impression you are a user. Always make them think you are a dealer, low level just supplying your friends. You smell of desperation and you are going to get shafted. I now have some contacts, so it's guaranteed party time from now on."

"Good stuff costs money, you and I ain't exactly on easy street. My normal routine of doing jobs around the neighbourhood just pays for my boarding lessons and the slopes should be open by the end of the month. I'd be completely sunk if I had to find the cash for my ski pass as well."

"Getting cash is no problem to keep ourselves happy. I can always fall back on dipping people's pockets, should be easy when we both go skiing. I'll use you as my drop man. Fifty fifty split of the spoils." The fifteen year old then lit up the hand rolled joint and took a long inhale before passing it over to Tom. His game plan for Operation Complete Meltdown was well underway. Drink, drugs and sex were all weapons to get back at those that had misused him.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex now thought that of his life was split between things he hated and things that could be classed as ok. Life in Port Moody was mostly ok. He had made it into Grade 10 by the skin of his teeth and had yet another completely different school system to negotiate. He had been amazed at his moderately OK results on his placement tests, considering the colossal amount of school he'd missed in the past 18 months, he'd expected to have been put back a year. His favourite class was Japanese, a choice not available in London, Cairo or San Francisco. His excelled at languages, which was only making him miss the routine he'd had in Chelsea with Jack. On Monday they'd converse only in French, Tuesdays Spanish, Wednesdays German and Thursdays in Japanese. Fridays and Saturdays were when Jack tended to go out on dates or with her friends and Alex hung out with Tom and played football. Sundays were for chores, the supermarket shop and homework. The whole deal with getting arrested, burning down the science block and running away had cost him most of his other friends. The shooting incident at Brookland had cost him his bestie. Tom Harris had not answered one message or email since. He had made no friends to speak of in California. Here, he was still sitting on the fence. Watching as Tom interacted with his small social group.

Tom was fine most of the time, but sharing a room was causing major tension between them. It was his friends space after all and he was gate crashing. After four days of school the honeymoon period was definitely over. Maybe it was time to revisit his original plan of moving on, getting a job and lust counting hours, days, months and years until his 18th birthday and being a legal adult.

It was Thursday evening after two weeks at school and Alex had exiled himself to the basement to get peace and quiet. Tom worked to the steady white noise of ever present rock music, something Alex did not like very much. The interloper was doing chores and homework together, as he had collected two loads of washing from the piles that had accumulated on the bedroom floor, 90% of the dirties were not his. Even with all the stuff Liz had dropped off, he only had six changes of clothes. He tended to wear things for two days before changing. He no longer cared for fitting in by wearing the right labels at school. As a foster placement, he had lunch vouchers and had a tailored mission statement. That along told the popular kids he was a loser. So, here he was sat by the washing machine attempting to answer his math assignment. Problems of fractions asked as sharing items between friends. Alex hated the bland normalises of the situations discussed as nothing in his life was normal. Rather than finish the work or attempt to ignore his anger, he wrote, 'easy 1 divided by 1 is 1. I have no friends to share anything with. Thanks for driving home just what an unloveable freak I am'. At that he shoved the worksheet back in his bag and decided to see how far he got before Evie noticed he was missing.

In the early evening, the fifteen year old sat watching the tall towers and the stunning scenery eating a hotdog in downtown Vancouver. It made London look like a dump. After two hours wandering, he found a park bench to crash on, laying down to rest. Alex knew he could ring home, that Evie would pick him up, talk things through, come and get him, then ground him; but what really was the point. The sooner she decided he was hopeless the better for all concerned.

At eleven he noted two cops walking towards his bench. He stood up, pulling up his hood and started to walk away from them fast, but not too fast away. The command of 'hold it there, kid!' stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm just going to get the last bus home, officers. I did not mean to fall asleep. I just came downtown as I needed some space. Its been a stressful day." An incident after school, that ended with the potential bully cowering at his feet with fear in his eyes, at the mercy of a trained killer. Tom had not noticing his buddy's unease and the one sided conversation on the way home had been the Canadian pushing the English kid to badger the phys ed teacher about getting on the hockey and softball teams. Alex had no real interest in team sports, friends or being one of the guys. Evie had been busy in her studio, not wanting to be disturbed, the routine was to get assignments finished before the evening meal was served up.

The tall policeman was glad the 'runaway' had volunteered to go home. "OK, we'll walk you to the bus, give us your home number and we'll let your parents of guardian know you're OK and they can pick you up."

Alex had the feeling the cops knew exactly who he was and the Evie had already alerted the authorities he was missing when he skipped dinner. "My foster mom's name is Evie Blantyre…."

It was well after midnight when he stepped off the bus to see Evie's battered SUV parked. At least there were no cops in Port Moody to escort him back to his domicile.

….

The teenage boy sat in the passenger seat waiting for the admonishment to start. Only Evie's stoic silence meant she wanted an apology or some sort of explanation first. Alex had a choice, to be honest or rely on bullshit, avoidance and denial. "Its been a shit day. School was crap. I told the cops downtown that I needed space to think. I was considering that going it alone was for the best. I'm seriously getting on Tom's nerves."

The driver was surprised at Alex;s candour and was relieved he'd come home. She also noted the use of distraction, not talking about what had bugged him at school but about him cramping Tom's personal space. "Tom knew something was up today. You did not tell him off for playing his music too loud. Then you did his laundry. Tom showed me your math worksheet. Poetic truth is not what the teacher requires for a passing grade. Well, only in ethics class." She then started the engine and decided on diversionary tactics as well. "Do you need any food on the way home?"

"I half ate a disgusting hotdog earlier." Alex then wanted to run, rather than confess that he could quite easily have snapped Deke's neck today. The stakes of a game of Truth or Dare, Evie would always ask for truth. "I should have told Tom or you that Deke and his three goons tried to beat me into submission today. They think they run the school, the type of guys that bullying kids, steal lunch money, sell dope and are overall gits. Deke mistook me for an easy target. He knows I went to the same posh boys school in France; so I should be good for a few dollars. In case you did not know Tom pays him off with five dollars a week. I do not do deals with lowlifes. Helps I know karate as well. I did not hurt him or his friends much, but I scared the crap out of them. I also scared the crap out of me. I could have really hurt them. I know how to inflict agony and how to kill with my bare hands. I'm a child soldier, a killer and I have no place being in a school with normal kids. I should not be within a million miles of Tom or anyone else." Alex watched as Evie drove up here street and parked.

"First of all, I'm proud of you for coming back, for telling the truth and trusting me with this. Lets get warmed up inside. Lets discuss our options like adults, with a nice hot drink of coffee and plate of sandwiches."

…..

At seven Tom came downstairs to see his grandmother and Alex sat looking at photographs. Last night, he had only gone to bed after the cops had phoned to say Alex was on his way home from downtown Vancouver, on the bus not in a patrol car. "Morning, coming to school today Al?"

"We all are. Alex's action plan needs tweaking. I need a chat with the school psychologist and the principal. So, oatmeal the breakfast of champions this morning and lots and lots of coffee."

…..

It wasn't until lunch that Tom cornered Alex to get the low down over just had taken place at home. "I guess you're not grounded. Evie's weird that way. Talking and action plans are her thing. She only freaks out big time if you lie."

"Deke happened. Thats why I missed lunch yesterday. Oh thanks by the way, for not ratting me out about that. So, a small incident after science, where everyone disappeared so I could get the shit kicked out of me, only Deke, Richie and Samo know not to get on my bad side now. I've already cleared the air with them. No hard feelings and such like. You are off limits and I have fifty bucks to give you." Alex passed over the notes and kept walking to the cafeteria.

Curiosity got the better of Tom, as they sat to eat their rations. "So, what was with the photos this morning?"

Alex finished his mouthful of sandwich and sipped his water. "Evie was showing me pictures of her brother. Your great uncle Michael, he was in the Marine Corps. Served in Vietnam and had serious PTSD. He stayed with your gran and mom occasionally in the seventies. I got the whole life story and the moral of the tale. For you to recover from horrific experiences, you have to share, talk and move on from them. So, I'm on a journey to get my head together. I am not a child, not one of the guys here, but neither are you. So, we're family, Tom. I fit right in as Alex the crazy ex-spy."


End file.
